


Cherry Blossoms

by Jasperfalls



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, M/M, Shits pretty angsty, had t do it to em, idrk how to tag this so, ignoring feelings doe, mm cheating sigh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25044196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jasperfalls/pseuds/Jasperfalls
Summary: Was he scared? Was he nervous? Iwaizumi was never really one for emotions, feelings either. Situations where he did what he thought was best left him with a stinging handprint on his face, or even a wet shirt.This time was different though. That’s why this all meant so much to him. He tried feeling. He wanted to understand Semi, and while there were many misunderstandings and upsets, it wasn’t like he wasted months of his life learning and trying things just to drop everything with Semi and to return to nothing. Semi taught him a lot, and Iwaizumi couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, it had meant nothing to the other.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Semi Eita
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Cherry Blossoms

**Author's Note:**

> This one for u Tracy ;P

“I can’t lie to you anymore,” Semi started. Iwaizumi knew the minute they sat down, plates piled with rich people food that smelled heavenly and looked so good, it seemed to attract Semi’s gaze more than he ever will though. Iwaizumi knew from day one that this moment would come, but nothing could ever prepare him for it. 

“I see.” A sigh, then a gaze placed upon something out of the way. A portrait of a fine young lady, her hair red and curled to perfection. The talent some people had really was amazing. It was really only in moments like this Iwaizumi focused on the little things.

Though Iwaizumi’s mind quickly became scattered, he thought about all the things in the world Semi could say next. Maybe he was going to come clean about the laundry he forgot to do last week, or how he lied about looking into the apartment Iwaizumi brought up. It wasn’t hard to find these things out of course. A pile of dirty laundry and an empty search history wasn’t too hard to find. He knew it wasn’t that, though, there were too many signs pointing directly to the obvious, even if it hurt.

“You mean so much to me, please know that.” Could Iwaizumi trust the words that fell from Semi’s lips? He wasn’t sure, and never had been. Yet, he followed them blindly and held them close in hopes his thoughts hadn’t gotten the best of him. He trusted them then, can he trust them now, too?

“Yea.” Iwaizumi didn’t skip a beat, as his replies fell shortly after Semi’s. Was he scared? Was he nervous? Iwaizumi was never really one for emotions, feelings either. Situations where he did what he thought was best left him with a stinging handprint on his face, or even a wet shirt.

This time was different though. That’s why this all meant so much to him. He tried feeling. He wanted to understand Semi, and while there were many misunderstandings and upsets, it wasn’t like he wasted months of his life learning and trying things just to drop everything with Semi and to return to nothing. Semi taught him a lot, and Iwaizumi couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, it had meant nothing to the other.

“I… um,” Semi was struggling, of course he was. If it was what Iwaizumi dreaded more than anything, it wasn’t an easy thing to say. Something like that would never be easy to say, it wouldn’t be easy to hear either. 

“Please say it.” Iwaizumi’s gaze still hadn’t left the portrait, it was too beautiful and much too distracting to look away from. Maybe that was just because of the uncomfortable feeling that started to grow in his stomach; boiling water that’s been left on high for too long and is bound to boil over, to burn or not to burn. 

“I’m sorry.” 

That was never a good way to start anything.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen like this - for anything to happen.” Semi’s tone was calm but quiet, Iwaizumi was sure he didn’t know how much this would hurt. Iwaizumi didn’t either but at least he expected it, and maybe Semi did too. 

There was a long pause and silence fell over them in the form of a weighted blanket that was filled with nothing but tension. Shoulders, face, behaviour; the tension was clear from a mile away. Did other people feel it? Or was it just Semi and Iwaizumi who felt it? Sat in a world of their own, except this time it wasn’t filled with whispers of sweet nothings and the feeling of morning sun that graced their skin in golden yellows and oranges, but the guilt in a voice that was admitting to the lies they uttered in the form of sweet nothings and the feeling of suffocating tension drowning out everyone except the two of them. 

Iwaizumi felt nauseous. 

“Eita.” Iwaizumi muttered, as if to remind Semi of what he was about to say. He didn’t want it to be over with. This wasn’t a bandaid you rip off while expecting to feel better in less than a minute. It was a bullet shot straight through the heart. Iwaizumi knew that the minute the words fell from Semi’s lips, nothing would be the same. 

Nothing. 

“Sorry.” A shaky, sheepish chuckle, fake and forced because the tension was still just as suffocating. It was an attempt at lifting the mood, which had no avail. 

“Please tell me, Eita.” Iwaizumi didn’t want to hear it, but here he was, asking for it. While he waited for it, he chewed on the inside of his lip - a habit he picked up - as he repeats the words he expects to hear in his head. He’d done it maybe 15 times before there was any sign of Semi out of the corner of his eye. It was a small shift, the running of fingers through overgrown ivory hair, just like Iwaizumi does. Or, did. 

“I’ve been seeing Mio.” Then silence.

There it was. 

Semi was much more blunt than Iwaizumi would’ve imagined when he said it. Maybe Iwaizumi just forgot he was straightforward about most things. The “tell you upfront” kind of guy, if you will. He felt Semi’s gaze fall on his face, it didn’t feel the same. It wasn’t soft and the type that made your cheeks heat up, no, it was the type that made your blood boil simply to make sure the words spoken were heard. He wondered if it was all a lie; the gazes, touches, shouts and whispers. 

He saw it coming, but did everything mean that little to Semi? 

“Oh.” Was all that fell from Iwaizumi after a moment. So many words danced around in his head but none fell upon his tongue. There was so much he wanted to say, to ask, but he couldn’t.

Why? Was she better? Did I mean anything? 

But he expected it, and with that came knowing the answers. No matter how much they hurt.

“I’m sorry.” Semi’s gaze fell off him again, Iwaizumi assumed to the plates that were still full of rich people food that didn’t smell heavenly anymore, and didn’t look so good. Yet it still seemed to attract Semi’s gaze more than he ever will. 

“Why?” He did it, he asked. Though there was really no reason for a question you already know the answer to, right? 

“Why? Why what?” Semi echoed, and Iwaizumi had never been more frustrated. It was so little and there was so much more to be frustrated about. Iwaizumi was no masochist, but sometimes he really questioned it.

“Why’d you do it, Eita?” Because I needed a change, something new, someone else. 

“I don’t…” he hesitated, “I wanted something different.” 

He knew it. Did that mean he was right about everything else too? Was she better than he was?

Iwaizumi was never one to look down on himself, he had no reason to. Yet here he was; aged 26, working a full-time job that paid well and he never questioned himself once - well maybe, but over little things. So why. Why was he questioning himself now? 

Was I not good enough for him? Did I do something wrong?

“We… um,” Semi hadn’t looked up from his dish once, and Iwaizumi was almost positive he had every feature of this woman's portrait memorized completely. The rounded cheeks, button nose, red curly hair with one curl that didn’t seem to work but still made her look beautiful. She had a beautiful smile, dimples too. 

“Two months, right?” Iwaizumi spoke. He sent chills down his own spine at how calm he was. He didn know how. He felt like he was about to burst, like the boiling pot of water that had finally reached its peak but held on and didn’t boil over. 

“I’m so sorry.” To put it simply, Semi sounded pathetic. Not that Iwaizumi would ever address him as such. He didn’t deserve it - or maybe he did, but Iwaizumi could never bring himself to say it

Was this what it felt like to get heartbroken? To trust someone so much that you’d give them your heart that was glass to begin with. To let yourself be pulled in by that person and tell them things you didn’t even know about yourself. To let them hold on too tight for too long. To let them be the one to shatter your heart into so many pieces you don’t even know where to begin picking them up.

Was this what it felt like to be heartbroken?

“I knew to begin with.” It stung more than that slap to the face. He knew it but he never wanted to be right. He wanted to bring it up one day when they were old, mention how he thought his partner was hooking up with a mutual friend and laugh about it because it sounded so ridiculous. 

Because it sounded so ridiculous. Funny, right?

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, and I know you probably hate me.” Semi muttered. Iwaizumi still didn’t dare so much as a glance at the other. He didn’t want to look at Semi because the last time he got a good look at him he smiled, and he didn’t want that to be replaced. It meant too much.

It was bright, airy, carefree, and it looked so genuine. They had been sitting in bed, the lamp that sat on Semi’s nightstand casted the room in an orange glow. While not as beautiful as the sunlight, Semi still looked unbelievably gorgeous in it and it was unbelievably unfair. Iwaizumi had wrapped an arm around his middle, pulled him in close and pressed a delicate kiss on his nose. He had held him like holding him too tight would mean he disappeared; like he was glass, fragile and breakable beneath his hands. Then he had pulled away, a soft smile on his lips, easily beat by Semi when the corners of his lips curled up. 

It was so bright and it looked so… real.

“Okay.” Iwaizumi got to his feet slowly. His hands had disappeared into his pockets, curled tightly into fists that probably pressed crescent shaped marks in between each line in his palm. The ones Semi had absently traced over in the morning sunlight while Iwaizumi pretended to be asleep. It hurt to know Semi had done these things so easily while feeling the way he did. 

He made lying look so easy; so beautiful. 

“Hey, Haj-” Semi cut himself off with a bite of his tongue. “Iwaizumi.”

When did you become so formal?

“Yes?” 

“Are we still going to talk?” Semi was quiet again, and something laced his voice. Iwaizumi couldn’t tell what it was. He’d never heard it before. Pain? Hurt? Heartbreak?

Regardless, Iwaizumi shifted his weight. He took a deep breath and held it, he let tension build in his lungs until they called for an exhale. His heart slowed the slightest, beating against his chest as a reminder that he was in fact alive, even if he was living in a strange nightmare that seemed to go on forever. Then the exhale washed over him in a tidal wave of relief. Relief from what though? Not suffocating? Living? 

Once his breath was caught, Iwaizumi let his eyes flutter shut. He turned to face Semi, a smile even the dumbest could tell was forced upon lips that wanted nothing more than to be pressed against another person’s. 

“Of course, Semi.” 

Semi.

It hurt. He hurt. Everything hurt. He was a man with too many questions, too many answers, yet none were ever what he wanted. He was a man with a glass heart who let someone hold on too long and too tight, shattering it into so many pieces it left him scrambled. He was a man with a memory of bright smiles and featherlight touches, afraid of losing them to lying whispers and pained faces.

And he, Iwaizumi Hajime, was a boiling pot of water, boiling over and burning himself inside out.

As he slowly turned on his heels without a glance back, he realized cherry blossoms would never look so beautiful again.

**Author's Note:**

> Mio, meaning “Beautiful Cherry Blossom”


End file.
